Falling Slowly
by E.M. Robinson
Summary: Eyva Tarth came to the North on a whim. But after bonding with the Starks she decides to stay. Five years later however, her world is about to change when King Robert arrives to ask his dear friend Ned a certain question, and she crosses paths with a certain lion. OC/Jaime and OC/Others cos she gets around a bit. Rated M because, well, it's Game of Thrones. Please rate and review!
1. Prolouge

**Hi everyone :) I've had this idea in my head for a while now and I thought it was a really good idea for a fic. This is my first Game of Thrones fic, and I will be the first to admit that I don't know all the ins and outs of this fandom, so if something isn't how it is in Canon then can you please pardon me? I'm really nervous about posting this, haha.  
** **It will be _eventual_ Jaime/OC, but it will likely be a slow burn. It will follow the TV show more than the books. Also my writing style is a lot more casual then what you would find in the books, so I would appreciate no flames regarding this fact. **

**This first chapter takes place six years before the events of the show start, so think of it as a prologue of sorts to get to know my OC. I hope you enjoy it :)  
** **I don't own anything bar the OC's.**

Falling Slowly  
Prolouge

"Here we are Lady Tarth, welcome to Winterfell."

"I swear to the Gods, Storm, if you call me Lady Tarth one more time I will knock you off your horse and leave you to freeze in the snow." Eyva Tarth retorted to her snarky companion Arin Storm.

"If you say so… Lady Tarth" Arin teased, veering off into a gallop, chuckling as Eyva spun around and attempted to give him a sharp push from atop her own chestnut steed. Bones, her faithful brindle pup gave a gleeful bark at their laughter from where he ran at her side.

As Arin rode ahead, Eyva took in the huge Keep in the distance. Since leaving the Sapphire Isle all those months ago this was without a doubt the gloomiest looking place that they had visited. So far she and Arin had rode through the Stormlands, the Reach, the Westerlands, the Riverlands, and now they had reached the North. It had been interesting traveling through the different regions of Westeros and seeing what they each had to offer. Eyva had found each one beautiful in its own unique way. From the lush greenery and gushing waterfalls of the Riverlands, to the sub-tropical scenery of the Highgarden.

However she had enjoyed her time in the Westerlands the most, mainly due to the fact that it had been the place where she had first encountered a tiny puppy, as thin as a rail with a short, brindle coat and a broad, flat head.

Eyva and Arin had been stumbling back to their tavern on the evening of Eyva's seventeenth name day, both deliriously intoxicated from a night of inn hopping, and Arin had had the brilliant idea that he carry Eyva back to their accommodation. Naturally they had both ended up on their backs next to a heap of rubbish, laughing uncontrollably. Eyva had been trying to regain her footing, on her hands and knees when Arin had appeared behind her, grabbed her hips, thrusted his pelvis into her arse with such force that she had fallen forward onto her face with a rather unladylike squeal, which had made them both erupt into fresh bouts of laughter. However from behind a crate to her left, Eyva had managed to hear a small whimpering over Arin's laughter, and that's how the small, shivering puppy had come into her possession.

She had named him for the fact that she had been able to see all of his ribs beneath his fur on that evening, but now, six months or so later, he had filled out dramatically and looked the picture of health, despite the fact he had yet to grow into his paws which resulted in his rather clumsy gallop that Eyva absolutely loved. Arin had been surprised the pup had lasted the week, what with an infestation of lice and a belly full of worms. However with Eyva's meticulous care she had managed to transform the dog.

Now as Eyva steered her horse back over to her escort she smiled fondly at the memory of proving him wrong. As much as she loved him, Arin was a bit of a know it all.

Born a bastard in the Stormlands, he had always had to work twice as hard as everybody else in order to prove his worth. His mother, Anne, had worked in the kitchens of Evenfall Hall her whole life, so ever since he had been a babe Arin had been toddling around Eyva's ancestral home. When he had reached the age of six he had bonded with the Master-at-Arms, Ser Goodwin, who had already been training Eyva's fifteen year old half-sister Brienne, and he was all too happy to take the young boy under his wing, having always had a soft spot for people who may have been overlooked otherwise.

Since then he had grown into a handsome warrior, with long hair that, when freshly washed was a beautiful shade of honey blonde, but would often get so caked in dirt from his vigorous training that most people assumed that it was naturally a light brown colour. Eyva secretly felt proud that she was one of the few people who knew this fact. Arin had never been short of female company, despite being a bastard.

Even though he was only two years older than seventeen year old Eyva, at nineteen years old, Arin looked like a man grown. His tall muscular stature and rugged features made him practically irresistible to the maidens of Tarth, and by the time Arin was finished with them they were maidens no longer. Eyva's and Arin's relationship had always been more platonic. Sure there was flirtatious banter between them, and there had always been rumours (mainly by other girls who were jealous of how close Eyva was to Arin) but nothing had actually occurred worth mentioning.

They had always simply been best friends.

When Brienne had turned sixteen she had beaten a disgusting sixty-five year old man whom she had been betrothed to, Ser Humfrey Wagstaff, in a combat battle, therefore breaking the betrothal, and even though she had even yet to turn six, young Eyva became determined that she could do the same as her sister.

Eyva could still remember the look of shock on Ser Goodwin's face when she had trotted into the training yard, dragging a wooden sword behind her and declaring that she was ready to be like Brienne. That had been the day she had met Arin. He had been standing a little way away, his own wooden sword in hand, a skinny boy of seven.

"Why do you want to fight?" He had asked her, and Eyva had shrugged, her blonde ringlets tickling her shoulders.

"So I don't have to get married." She answered, and Arin had grinned, displaying the gaps where he had lost his baby teeth.

"Good. Marriage is for boring people." He had announced, and since then the two of them had become almost inseparable, but Arin was not the only one who had grown up and morphed into a true beauty. Eyva's big crystal blue eyes, so identical to her sisters, had remained the same and so had her pale blonde hair, although now the loose curls fell down her back. These were the only features that linked her to her sister. The similarities ended there.

While Brienne's body was broad and ungainly Eyva's was lithe and willowy, however her curves had been hardened by muscle over the years of training. Eyva may have been tall, but she nowhere near reached the height of her sister, who topped the six foot mark. She had clear, smooth skin, a dainty nose, full lips and a winning smile. All features that Brienne lacked, minus the smile. Eyva was probably the only person who had seen Brienne's full smile, and in Eyva's opinion it lit up her face in the most stunning way.

Despite this Eyva still yearned to be like her sister. People rarely underestimated Brienne in battle, and the people of Tarth seemed to have immediate respect for her, whereas Eyva had spent years trying to prove herself. She felt confident now, after a lot of hard work, that she had made a name for herself in Westeros. She may have been beautiful, but she was also deadly. In fact both the Tarth sisters were known, although Eyva loathed the reasons for which Brienne was recalled. Brienne the Beauty they called her, a name created with the cruel intention to mock and belittle her. Eyva knew that her sister was truly a beautiful person. Fiercely loyal and stubborn to the bone, Brienne had practically raised Eyva, determined not to see another sibling fall at the hands of the Gods.

Brienne's mother had passed away mere months after she was born. Then her brother Galladon when she was eight, and then another two younger sisters who didn't make it through infancy. Yes, the elder Tarth sister was no stranger to tragedy. Selwyn Tarth, their father, had started taking a different woman every year, something which became a normal occurrence. But one year he suddenly married a maid from House Swann, who quickly fell pregnant. It was rather odd occurrence that happened too quickly. Eyva was born soon after, but in return for her life the Gods took her mothers. Eyva never even had the chance to be wrapped in her mother's embrace, not even once. Selwyn resorted back to his old dallying ways, but he treasured his two daughters with every fiber of his being, who were both so different they may have not been sisters at all.

"You know what I need Eyva?" Arin's booming voice suddenly broke Eyva out of her thoughts. They were riding through the great stone arch into the appropriately named Winter Town. It was fucking freezing! "A nice hot bowl of broth and a good shag."

"And not necessarily in that order." Eyva added with a smirk. "But don't forget you promised to get me some new arrows since you lost the majority of mine when you were trying to shoot that damn squirrel." It was safe to say that Arin's skills lay with his broadsword. The man in question rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

"Let's not go there." Was all he said as he dismounted his horse and secured the reigns around a horse post. Eyva slid off of her mare and stretched her aching legs. She'd assumed that months of endless riding would have eased the discomfort, but no. "How about you help me take care of that shag first, eh?" Arin suggested as he sorted Eyva's horse for her, and the girl let out a laugh.

"Nice try Storm. How about you sort out the arrows while I have a look around the market? Then we can find a place to stay, have something to eat, and _then_ you can find someone to warm your cock." Eyva suggested as she crouched down in order to give Bones a fuss. She looked around, studying Winter Town with interest. Ahead of them for the next mile or so were rows of small, neat houses built from wood and undressed stone. Where the houses ended in the distance Eyva could make out a clearing that she guessed was the market place.

"Whatever you say my Lady." Arin said with an eye roll, obviously trying to get under her skin but instead of indulging him Eyva simply acted as if she hadn't heard him.

"Come on Bones," She called to the dog, patting her thigh in indication for him to stick by her side, and the remarkably obedient dog was immediately at her heel. She heard Arin trudging behind her and couldn't help the triumphant smile that graced her lips.

The North may have been rather dull and bleak, but it still had a stoic charm about it that Eyva rather liked. The people quite obviously didn't see the point of pomp and grandeur of somewhere like the Reach for example. The Northerners were much like the North themselves. Simple, mild, incomplex. Eyva couldn't help but notice that she stood out from the locals that they were passing. The majority of them had dark hair and stern features, and when they reached the square Eyva couldn't see one person with hair as bright as hers. The dinginess of everything surrounding them made her curls appear almost as white as the snow itself.

"What a cheerful place to live." Arin muttered, obviously not as enchanted as his companion by the murky scenery. Eyva elbowed him in the side.

"Shut up and go and find the blacksmith already." She retaliated.

"Fine," Arin huffed. "Stay around here or wait by the horses if you get bored."

"Will do," Eyva called back over her shoulder, already wandering over to the closest stall which appeared to be selling sacks of wool and other basic materials, Bones hot on her heel. She looked down at the pup, taking in his short coat that wasn't at all suited to the harsh winds of the North. Maybe she could fashion him a fleece of some sort?

"Can I stroke your dog?" An indignant voice suddenly asked from Eyva's side, making her jump slightly. She spun around, surprised to lay eyes upon a small, scrawny child with thin brown hair and a long face.

"You may," Eyva permitted, and the child hurried forward and began to scratch Bones behind the ears. The dog in question began to thump his tail against the ground in satisfaction. "What's your name?" Eyva asked. She honestly wasn't sure whether the child was a girl or a boy, and she had a feeling that they wouldn't have a problem telling her if she got it wrong.

"Arya Stark," The girl, it turned out, answered and Eyva couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. How had such a young girl, especially a little lazy, come to be allowed to wander around the town on her own? She couldn't have been more than six years old! "What's yours?"

"Eyva Tarth," She replied, and she saw recognition light up in Arya's eyes.

" _Patient, True, Unafraid_." She recited, and Eyva couldn't help but smile at the words of her house.

"That's correct. Your lessons are obviously paying off." She praised, and Arya made a face.

"I don't like going to them. They're boring. I want to fight!" She caught side of Eyva's sword. "Can you actually use that?" Eyva chuckled at the girls' question.

"You bet I can," She said, and before Arya could ask her another question she changed the subject. "Are you here on your own? Surely that's rather dangerous, even though you can probably look after yourself." Eyva knew how a girl like this worked. She was like Brienne. She didn't like being told that she couldn't do something, and stroking her ego was a sure way to get an answer from her. Sure enough Arya's chest swelled with pride and she smiled smugly.

"I was with my sister, Sansa, and our Septa. But they were just looking at fabrics and I was bored." She said. Eyva had to resist the urge to laugh at the young girls' response.

"While I'm sure you're right Arya it's not safe to just go off on your own. Come on, shall we go and find them?"

"Fine, but you have to tell me about your sword." Arya compromised, and this time Eyva did allow herself to laugh out loud.

"Deal," She confirmed, and Arya grabbed her hand, much to her surprise, and began to lead her through the market, all the while quizzing the older girl on what weapons she could use.

Five minutes or so later Eyva spotted a woman in the distance wearing the typical Septa garb, with a girl of around eight, who she guessed was Arya's sister, at her side. The girl had flowing red hair and was wearing a pretty green dress, much unlike the girl who was currently talking Eyva's ear off, who was wearing muddy breeches and a loose tunic. Brienne had always held a dislike for dresses, preferring the comfort of breeches, and while Eyva agreed that trousers and a tunic were far more practical, she still liked wearing dresses.

Arya's sister must have obviously been preparing to purchase something from the stall they were standing before because Eyva could make out the Septa handing her a leather coin purse. However that wasn't the only thing that Eyva spotted.

A tall, scrawny man with thinning hair and a gaunt face was lurking near the pair, and before Eyva even had the chance to form a suspicious thought the man bolted forward, shoving poor Sansa to the ground to the floor with such force that she fell into the wooden corner of the stall face first, resulting in her dropping the coin purse which the thief snatched up. The Septa let out an almighty squawk as he barged passed her just as Arya let out a shout of "HEY!" and prepared to bolt forward. However Eyva's quick instincts took over and she grabbed Arya's skinny arm and yanked her back behind her.

The thief was running towards them, obviously heading towards the nearest exit, an alleyway to their right. Eyva would be damned if she let someone who stole from children escape.

She bolted to the alley, unsheathing her sword as she ran. She got there a second before the man, raising her sword and holding it up to his neck, successfully blocking the escape route with the sharp blade. He only just managed to stop in time.

"Going somewhere?" She asked casually, taking in the man's blotchy face and rancid breath.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" The man snarled, revealing a total of about five teeth. He backed away and stupidly threw a punch at her, but Eyva easily rose her arm, blocked it, and then jabbed her elbow forward into the man's nose with such a force that he stumbled back onto the ground with a cry. Eyva watched as he tried to scurry away, at the same time trying to stem the blood flow from his nose, but there was a brown flash, and suddenly Bones was on him, paws on his chest as he growled fiercely down at the man's face.

Eyva sauntered over, whistled for Bones, and the moment the dog left his body she pointed the tip of her sword at his throat. She placed one of her booted feet over his heart, and held out her hand. The thief, letting out a defeated grunt, threw the coin purse to her which she caught with ease.

"How low can you stoop to steal from a little girl?" She mused, not moving her blade from its position.

"Yer don' 'av much choice yer starvin'" The man wheezed from beneath her. Eyva shrugged.

"I don't know, maybe you could become a whore? I mean you definitely have the looks for it." She couldn't help but joke just as she heard someone call out her name. She turned her head to see Arin running towards her, a bound bundle of arrows in his hand.

"Eyva! Seriously? I can't leave you alone for half an hour without you beating someone up?" He mocked, although Arin knew that if his companion had taken it upon herself to use her sword against some sod then they probably deserved it. When he reached them Arin turned the man on the ground over onto his front, and he quickly took the rope holding the arrows together and used it to tie the thief's wrists behind his back.

"That. Was. Amazing!" Arya's excited exclamation interrupted, and Arin looked at the young girl before turning back to Eyva, a look of confusion marring his handsome features.

"Arya go and see if your sister is okay." Was all Eyva said, and when Arya ran off ahead Eyva hurried over to Arin in order to help him get the thief to his feet.

"Arya? As in Arya Stark?" Arin asked quietly, looking to his friend. Eyva met his eye before quickly looking away and shrugging.

"Don't ask." She said before following Arya. The Septa was checking over Sansa, who already had a bruise forming over her left eye. Arya was stood scowling to the right. "Hey, is everything okay?" Eyva asked with a kind smile in Sansa's direction, just as Arin joined them, holding the prisoner close to him. The girl didn't look sure whether she should return it or not.

"Yes perfectly fine thank you, if you'd kindly be on your way." The Septa sniffed at them, and Eyva raised an eyebrow in shock. Seriously? This old bat wanted to be rude to her? She turned to Arin, who looked just as bewildered as she felt.

"Oh okay then, I guess you want be wanting this back?" Eyva questioned, holding up the coin purse. The Septa turned to her and attempted to snatch it back, but Eyva dodged her with ease. Why was she acting like a petty child?

"I had everything under control, thank you very much." The older woman claimed and Eyva let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Oh really? Was that before you lost Arya or after her sister got robbed and acquired a black eye?" Before the Septa could retort with what undoubtedly be another moronic comment, the neigh of a horse interrupted them and a large man with greying hair and matching sideburns that were long enough to be tied in a knot beneath his chin rode onto the scene. Eyva immediately took a step back towards Arin. Whether she saved Sansa or not they were still strangers, and there was no knowing how the Northerners would react.

"Septa Mordane," The man began as his dismounted his horse before joining them. "A disturbance was reported. Is everything alright?" He asked.

"Everything is perfectly fine Ser Rodrik, just a minor incident." Septa Mordane replied with a gracious smile which Eyva couldn't help but roll her eyes at as Ser Rodrik looked around and took in Sansa's eye and the two strange visitors, one of whom had a beggar tied up.

"You'll have to forgive me Septa, but I'm not totally inclined to believe you." He said, and before the Septa could respond Eyva couldn't help but speak up.

"If you don't mind me interrupting, I'd be happy to explain." She said, and everyone turned to her. She heard Arin let out a sigh behind her, obviously wondering why she could never simply keep her mouth shut.

"And who might you be?" Ser Rodrik asked.

"Lady Eyva Tarth, daughter of the Evenstar Lord Selwyn Tarth." Eyva declared. Normally she wouldn't go flaunting her title around but she had a feeling it would help them avoid any trouble if they knew she was of noble blood. "And this is my riding companion, Arin Storm." She added quickly. She caught the flash of surprise in Ser Rodriks' eyes.

"Lady Tarth, it's an honour to have both you and your companion in our presence." He said with a small bow. "My name is Ser Rodrik Cassel and I'm the Master-at-Arms of Winterfell. If you don't mind me asking, what brings you to the North?" Eyva sent the man a warm smile.

"Nothing particularly important Ser Rodrik, what matters is the safety of Lord Stark's daughters." She said, and the Master-at-Arms nodded in agreement.

"Of course. Would you care to explain what happened?" And explain Eyva did, all the while ignoring the huffs and sighs coming from the Septa.

By the time she was finished she was about ready to throttle the old cow. "Lady Eyva, would you mind awfully accompanying us back to Winterfell and explaining this to Lord Stark? I'm sure he would like to thank you for preventing the theft and capturing the attacker." Ser Rodrik said, and Eyva sent a smug smile in the direction of the Septa.

"I'd be happy to." She said

"And if your companion wouldn't mind bringing the thief along I'm also sure that Lord Stark would find a fitting punishment for him." Ser Rodrik added, turning and fixing a dark stare on the man who was still trussed up and being restricted by Arin.

"Not a problem," The bastard said, and so the party set off. Ser Rodrik led the way, the sulking Septa scurrying behind him, young Sansa trailing behind her. Eyva and Arin brought up the rear with Arya walking between them, recounting the events of the afternoon with awe. Bones ran ahead, occasionally stopping to sniff and something or other before taking off again.

Arin was still holding onto the struggling prisoner, practically dragging him along. His weak attempts to escape were pointless against Arin's brawn. Eyva however was watching the girl in the green dress who was walking with her head down. The blonde watched her as they entered the Keep, feeling bad that the girl had been put through such an ordeal at so young.

The group made their way down a long corridor, footsteps echoing on the stone floor, and after making a few turns they came to a grand set of double doors which were flanked by a guard on either side. When they saw the party approaching them they each took hold of a handle and pushed the doors open.

Ser Rodrik led everyone inside the Great stone Hall, and if it hadn't been a rather serious occasion Eyva would have let out a low issue. It was huge! On a raised platform at the opposite end of the room was a stone throne, on which sat a true Northerner who could have only been Lord Eddard Stark. He bore similarity to Arya with his long face, dark hair and grey eyes, which at that moment were cold with anger. Beside him stood a tall, beautiful woman with long auburn hair and blue eyes. Catelyn Stark. The moment she saw Sansa she hurried over and crouched down, studying her daughter's bruised eye. Her soft gaze suddenly hardened as she rose to her full height.

"What happened here?" She questioned, her voice strong and steady. Eyva knew that the Tullys upheld family over everything else. _Family. Duty. Honour_. She suddenly felt very nervous despite the fact she knew she hadn't done anything wrong.

Thankfully Ser Rodrik took it upon himself to begin recounting the story. Eyva didn't think she could do it under the piercing gaze of Lady Stark. When the Master-at-Arms had finished speaking Lord Stark rose from the throne and made his way over to the party. He first stopped before the thief.

"Take this scum to the dungeons. I will find a suiting punishment for him in due time." He said, his voice soft but menacing. Two guards immediately hurried forward at his words and took the man from Arin's grip. Once he was un-burdened Arin quickly made his way over to Eyva and stood by her side. Lord Stark then turned to the Septa and instructed her to take his daughters to the Master, and the Septa did so hurriedly, quickly taking each of the girls' arms and leading them from the Hall. Finally the Wolf focused his attention on Eyva and Arin. "Lady Eyva, I want to thank you for stopping that thief. It will bring my wife and I peace knowing that he didn't get away with what he did to our daughter." He said, and Lady Stark gave a nod in agreement.

"No thanks is necessary Lord Stark. Someone who steals from children deserves whatever punishment he gets for it." Eyva said, and Lord Stark's striking eyes softened.

"I agree." He said. "It has been many years since I last saw your father, but you remind me of him very much. You are a true Tarth." Eyva smiled proudly at his words. "Naturally we in the North have heard the tales of the Tarth sisters. How Brienne beat her suitor in combat in order to break off the betrothal and then how young Eyva demanded the same right, which of course Lord Selwyn Tarth, being a man of honour, couldn't refuse."

Eyva's heart started to ache at the mention of her father. She often tried not to think about it, but she knew he was heartbroken by the fact that both of his daughters refused to marry. It meant the Tarth name would eventually die. But Selwyn had _always_ put his children's happiness before anything else. "I must ask Lady Eyva, what brings you to the North?" Lord Stark continued, and Eyva quickly cleared her throat before answering, bringing her focus back to that moment.

"I simply wanted to explore Westeros, my Lord. Seeing as I have no obligation to marry I'm looking for a new purpose. I'm yet to find one though." She said frankly. Lord Stark continued to stare at her, obviously thinking something over in his head. "Well then, I may have a proposal for you." Eyva swallowed nervously and cast a glance at Arin, who gave a look that clearly indicated for her to keep quiet. "I would offer you a position in my guard as a trainer of new recruits. A warrior of your skill would be an asset to any house. You would be under no obligation to stay, and you could leave at any time if you so wished."

Eyva looked to the ground. Should she stay here in the North? It was certainly different from her home in Tarth, yet she had been intrigued by it. "My only condition would be that you also watch over my children. Not so much Robb and Jon, but if today has taught me anything is that I can't be there to protect them at all times." Lord Stark continued, and Eyva looked up at him in surprise.

"So in short, you want me to be a nanny? Isn't that the Septa's job?" She couldn't help but blurt out, and the moment the words were spoken she wished she had held her tongue and kept her mouth shut, but to her surprise Lord Stark actually let out a small chuckle. It completely transformed his serious face.

"It does sound like it, I will grant you that, but no. I simply ask that if they take a trip into town or leave the Keep that you accompany them. It was foolish of me to permit an unguarded trip today." He said.

Eyva considered his offer. Would she be happy here? The idea of helping to train the guards, passing her knowledge on and basically showing off did appeal to her, and in all honesty she wasn't completely opposed to suggestion of supervising the Stark children. She had already hit it off with Arya, and she would love a chance to get to know Sansa better…

She knew what was holding her back. Eyva turned and met Arin's eye. However for the first time she found that she couldn't read him. He was completely closed off, and Eyva was surprised at the lump that formed in her throat because of the fact that her closest friend wasn't offering her any support or guidance. This was her decision, and her decision alone. She knew that Arin would have to head back to Tarth if she settled somewhere. That was the deal that her Father had struck. How would she cope without him at her side? By the Gods she would miss him. But she was genuinely interested to see what the North had to offer her? Could she really pass that up?

"Lord Stark…" Eyva began, her tongue dampened her lips before she spoke again. "You have yourself a deal."

-x-

Eyva lay in her new chambers that evening, listening to the howling wind that rapped against the pane of her window. Since agreeing to Lord Stark's proposition earlier that day she had barely had time to stop and breathe! She had been whisked off by Lady Stark and introduced to the other Stark children. She had first met an adorable one year old Rickon, who was in the arms of the prickly Septa. However much to Eyva's surprise Septa Mordane had apologised for her attitude that afternoon, explaining how she was simply upset that she hadn't been able to protect both of her charges.

Eyva had accepted the apology, and the Godly woman had then passed the little baby, who had a beautiful head of curls and chubby cheeks over to her for a fuss and a cuddle. It was strange to think that if Eyva's stay in the North was a long one, Rickon would never know a time in which she was never in his life.

She had then been introduced to a shy, young Brandon who had just turned five. At first he had hid behind his Mothers skirts, but when Eyva had knelt down on the floor and coaxed him out he soon started giggling and showing off. Lady Stark had smiled down at the interaction fondly, obviously happy with how Eyva was interacting with her children. She had then guided her to the Master Luwin's tower, where Arya and Sansa were still located, but Bran had been eager to stay with his new friend, so Eyva had taken his hand and he had trotted along with them happily. Arya had been thrilled to find out that Eyva was becoming a resident of Winterfell, and even Sansa had given her a bright smile as Master Luwin, a man who Eyva had quickly developed a lot of respect for, applied a homemade salve to the bruising on her eye.

Finally Lady Stark had then led Eyva to the training yard, insisting it would be where they found the boys. By now Bran had climbed his way into Eyva's arms, and he seemed quite content wrapped in her embrace as they made their way around the Keep. Sure enough, when they rounded a corner and walked down an open corridor Eyva could see three scruffy heads brandishing swords in the dull courtyard. One of them had auburn curls that matched Lady Starks, so she guessed that this was Robb Stark, the future Lord of Winterfell. The other two had darker hair. One with long curls as black as night and the other a tawny mess that reached just below the boys ears. Eyva saw that Ser Rodrik had also rejoined the boys, and when he saw the two women and young Bran approaching, he quickly gained their attention.

"Drop your blades lads." He instructed gruffly, and they all did so immediately. "This here is Lady Eyva Tarth. Lord Stark has invited her to stay at Winterfell. She's a skilled fighter, one that you would all do well to match and she will be assisting you all in future training." Ser Rodrik introduced her, and at his words she couldn't help but blush. She could see that the three boys were obviously struggling to hide their surprise. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Is that a problem?" She asked with a cheeky grin as she hitched Bran up on her hip. The boy with brown curls and an angular face was about to open his mouth to respond, when the sullen black haired boy next to him elbowed him in the side.

"Shut up Greyjoy." He muttered.

"You shut up Snow!" The boy, who Eyva now figured out was Lord Starks ward, Theon Greyjoy, retaliated. That meant that the dark, broody boy was Jon Snow, the famous bastard of the North.

It was certainly going to be interesting staying in the North with these strangers. Eyva had no doubt that in time she would come to care for these children as if they were own, but now as she lay in her fur coated bed, with Bones snoring contently at her side, she didn't feel the sense of excitement that a new prospect such as this would usually bring her.

No, instead she was worrying about Arin.

While Eyva had been having a tour of the Keep, the bastard had excused himself, saying he was going to prepare for the journey home that he would be embarking on tomorrow morning, despite the fact that Lord Stark had insisted he was welcome to stay for as long as he wanted. For the rest of the evening he had been distant with her, and she wanted to know why.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the sleeping dog (he would never go back to sleep knowing she wasn't in the room if he did wake) she kicked back the furs and swung her legs out of the bed. She had expected the floors to be freezing on her bare feet, but surprisingly they weren't that bad. Lady Stark had explained that Winterfell had been built on a series of hot springs, so Eyva guessed it was down to that. She quickly picked up a long dressing gown that had a fur lined collar, kindly lent to her by Lady Stark, and draped it over her almost sheer, white nightgown.

As silent as a shadow, thanks to her bare feet, she made her way out of the room and began to tiptoe around the Keep, eventually reaching the chambers she knew Arin had been put in for the night.

She rose her hand, poised ready to knock on the heavy wooden door, but just as her knuckles were about to rap against the wood she stopped herself. What if he didn't want to see her? She had never had any doubts regarding her bond with Arin, but now in the space of one afternoon everything had changed. Had it really only been that morning they had rode into Winter Town, laughing and joking with the intention of moving on to a new location within the next few days? She hadn't meant to hurt him with her decision. Maybe she should have taken him into consideration.

Lowering her hand, she stared at the door so hard she was surprised she didn't bore a whole through it. Why was this so hard all of a sudden?

She took a step back. And then another, before turning and beginning to make her way back down the hall. Maybe it was best to let things lie as they were, but when she heard the door she had just left open she froze.

"Really? You were just going to leave?" She heard Arin say, and Eyva eyes squeezed shut.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me." She said quietly, knowing he would still hear her.

"Eyva… if you knew me at all then you would that I will always want to see you."

She turned around slowly and met her best friends' eye. He was only wearing his breeches, but that didn't faze Eyva in the slightest. The look on his face spoke volumes. She could read him again, and she knew he was right. They had been through too much together. And now they were going to be separated for the first time since they had become friends. It was too much for Eyva. Despite the fact that she wasn't one to show when she was in pain, she felt herself crumble and the tears began to slide down her face.

Arin made his way over to her and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her back to his chambers. He kicked the door closed behind them and carried her over to the bed, all while Eyva let herself cry her heart out. She was going to miss him with every fiber of her being. He had been her rock for so long. He tucked her into the furs before climbing in beside her and wrapping his arms around her.

Eyva knew in that moment that she had never felt so safe in her entire life. She may have been saying goodbye to her best friend, but it was by no means the end of her adventure in Westeros…

 **How was it? Sorry if you spotted any mistakes, I don't have a BETA. So Eyva said an emotional goodbye to Arin (who I picture as Chris Hemsworth as the Huntsman), but I'm sure it won't be the last time we see him in this fic ;) Next chapter we will begin the proper story, but as a warning it may take me a while to get them out due to the fact that I'm going to rewatch the series.**

 **I hope you enjoyed reading it, and if you did please, please, please leave me a REVIEW! I would love to hear what you think.**

 **Thanks guys  
Eve x**

 **P.S. To anyone who reads my other fic _Perfectly Content_ I WILL BE FINISHING IT! Don't you worry! I just needed to get this out of my head cos it's been bugging me don't worry. I will update it as soon as I can. Thank you for your patience, it means the world to me x**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hi... I admit this took longer than I thought it would. Damn college work! Anyway, I hope it's okay and that you enjoy it! Please leave me some feedback if you do, but don't be a dick and leave a flame if you don't. I own only OC's.**

Falling Slowly  
 _Chapter 1_

 _Five years later…_

The chill of the dark chamber went unnoticed by Eyva, who lay nude upon the furs, her curls tangled and cheeks flushed as she struggled to catch her breath. The muscled body that lay on top of her, also panting heavily, let out a low chuckle.

"Well, that was definitely more frantic than I had expected… Not that I'm complaining." The man murmured in her ear before rolling off the girl and landing on the sheets beside her. Eyva now let out a laugh of her own and turned herself onto her side so that she could watch her companion.

Jory Cassell was a man who Eyva trusted with her life. Not only had he provided Eyva with hours of pleasure, but he was a talented swordsman and over her years at Winterfell the two of them had grown especially close in more ways than one. There had been a mutual attraction between the pair from the moment they had met, and over the coming years the flirtatious banter had eventually become too much and they had been all too happy to give into their desires.

But their relationship had never been a romantic one. A lot had changed for Eyva over the past five years, but not her views on marriage. It simply wasn't for her, and thankfully Jory understood and respected that, which had resulted in a satisfying sexual relationship for the past year. However it was not an exclusive one. The two of them were fully aware that both of them had other dalliances, but neither felt any reason to complain about it.

"Well the children will no doubt be finished with their lessons soon so we had to make the most from what little time we had." Eyva shrugged as she sat up. While the boys were all in the training yard Arya and Sansa were tied up in their needlework class, not that Eyva expected the younger Stark sister to remain there long.

"Ah good thinking." Jory agreed, still sprawled out in all his glory on her bed. "Speaking of which, as one of the Norths' 'most valued warriors' shouldn't you be overseeing the lads efforts?" He went on to ask with a cheeky grin, running his fingers lightly up and down her spine. Eyva resisted the urge to shudder in pleasure.

"I could say the same to you." She retorted, glancing back at him.

"A valid point." Jory said as she turned away, curls tossing over her shoulder. He watched her as she rose from the bed and started gathering her discarded clothes that had been tossed around the room in their haste to get at each other. She pulled on a beaten pair of dark olive breeches before beginning to bind her breasts. He loved watching her like this, when she wasn't putting up a front. He would almost say that she was off guard but if there was one thing that Jory had learnt about Eyva Tarth it was that she never let her guard down. She never let her guard down.

By now Eyva was lacing up a tight navy tunic that had a pale blue pattern stitched into it. Despite the fact that she was in her training clothes Eyva still liked them to have a sense of finery about them. She knew that her looks could be used as a deadly weapon, so she made an effort to look well-dressed a lot of the time. Her gaze once again fell upon the naked man who lay on her bed as if he had every right in the Seven Kingdoms to be there.

"I hope you don't plan on making yourself _too_ comfortable Cassell." She said, pulling up her brown knee-length boots of supple leather.

"Honestly Lady Tarth, I'm beginning to think you're only using me for my body." He teased. Eyva smirked.

"Oh you've finally caught on then?" She asked innocently, tossing his own breeches to him. They landed over his groin as he made no effort to catch them. One thing she had been surprised about when she had got to know Jory, who was now reclining comfortably against her wooden headboard with an arm behind his head, was that he had quite the sense of humour on him. He flickered his gaze down to the trousers in disapproval.

"So we meet again old foe." He said in a quiet but nonetheless dramatic voice. Eyva laughed.

"Well while you and your clothing settle your differences I'm going to go down to the training yard." She said as she pulled her hair back and tied it up with a black ribbon of Sansas'.

"This may take a while… we have a long history." Jory replied as Eyva took hold of the old metal door handle. She turned back and glanced at him as he lay there, his hand drifting slowly down his torso and reaching under the scrunched up material, smirking as he looked her directly in the eye.

"Well try not to take too long. I don't know how I'd explain this one to Lord Stark." She said.

"Oh please. Don't pretend you're so formal with him. I saw the two of you singing the Dornishman's Wife after one too many ales last month." Jory laughed, but Eyva kept her face impassive.

"I don't know what you mean." Was all she said before yanking the door open and departing down the stone corridor in the direction of the grounds. Despite the chill in the air Eyva found that she wasn't even fazed by it anymore. It had taken some getting used to but after five years her skin had finally thickened. She could hear the clang of swords as she neared the yard, and when she eventually rounded the corner Eyva saw that Robb and Jon were locked in a fierce duel.

The two skinny lads that she had first assisted in training when she had arrived had gradually transformed into strapping young men. Robb was tall, lean and still bore a striking resemblance to his Mother, whereas Jon was slightly shorter, a lot more bulky and without a doubt shadowed his Father. Theon, wo was preparing young Bran to begin shooting at the archery targets, was the tallest of the bunch, and probably the slimmest as well due to the fact that he favoured his bow and arrow over swords. He may be insufferable at times but hr had taken all of the advice that Eyva had given him regarding his craft on board without question, so Eyva did respect him for that.

She strolled over to where Ser Rodrik, Jory's uncle, was standing with her faithful hound Bones sitting at his heel, and gave him a brisk smile while bending to scratch Bones' ears, which he returned. The Master-At-Arms had grown rather fond of Eyva over her time in the North. He sometimes couldn't help but treat her like the daughter he never had, reprimanding her when she was in a particularly raucous mood. However he knew that there was no talking to her regarding her relationship with his nephew. Neither Jory nor Eyva were aware of the fact that Rodrik had nearly walked in on them in a… compromising position, to the say the least, in the stables a few months back, and he was happy to keep it like that.

Although they bantered back and forth in the company of others Eyva and Jory didn't make the extent of their relationship obvious, even though anyone with eyes could probably work it out. Rodrik couldn't deny that he hoped Eyva would eventually move past her disdain towards marriage and settle down with Jory. He knew that his nephew would marry her in a heartbeat, he truly cared for the girl. Rodrik would have been proud to call Eyva his family.

"How're they getting on?" The beautiful blonde asked, regarding the two eighteen year old boys.

"They're consistent." Rodrik huffed. "Hard to call really." Eyva nodded in agreement. Robb and Jon had always been more or less equal when it came to fighting, however she had a suspicion that Jon's brawn, if he used it to his advantage, would help him triumph in the end.

Eyva spun around and began to make her way over to the archery stands which stood a few meters away, Bones lolloping after her. She saw little Bran, still clutching his bow nervously, straighten as she approached. Eyva knew that the young lad had been infatuated with her from the moment she had arrived in Winterfell, if what Lady Stark said rang any truth. Apparently he spoke of little else for weeks after her arrival. Eyva was inclined to believe this because the rosy blush that covered his cheeks whenever she neared him also confirmed her suspicion.

Although she cared deeply for all of the Stark children she did have a little soft spot for Bran. He was unbelievably sweet and gentle, and his determination was something she both admired and respected.

"Good morning little wolf." She greeted, ruffling his hair as she passed him in order to retrieve her own bow from the stands.

"Morning Eyva." Bran replied, stroking Bones as the dog sat himself down beside him. Eyva smiled at the sight before glancing up and catching sight of Lord Stark standing over them on the wooden veranda, watching his children contently. She caught his eye and he sent a nod and a small smile her way.

Eyva Tarth was definitely a woman in a league of her own. When Eddard had asked her to remain in the North five years ago he would never have imagined that she would have had such a huge impact on his family.

Bran was smitten with her, Rickon was constantly trying to impress her, Arya would _actually_ listen to her reasoning about attending lessons (not that she always heeded her advice), Sansa admired her beauty and poise, despite the fact that she could wield a sword, and had even made her an embroidered shawl, and even his two eldest boys, Robb and Jon, were rather taken with her. However they did a better job at hiding it than young Bran.

Robb was gradually becoming more daring, participating in harmless flirting more and more as he got older, despite the five year age gap, and Eyva would often humour him back. Ned knew that Robb wouldn't have had the slightest issue with a betrothal to the young lady of Tarth, but given Eyva's opinions on marriage Ned hadn't even bothered to consider it.

Jon didn't make his desires known, but his father saw his bastard sons longing glances and stiff, nervous body language whenever she neared him.

Not that he could blame his boys.

If he had met Eyva when he was young, before he wed his beloved Cat, Ned knew that her beauty, spirit and wilfulness would have likely enchanted him as it had done his sons. Despite his honour Ned had a feeling that she would have made him question his betrothal. However now he knew it was irrelevant. He loved Cat and their children. There was no point fantasizing about the 'what ifs'.

Suddenly a sharp cry sounded, and Ned refocused on the scene below to see that Jon had successfully disarmed Robb and was laughing triumphantly. "Nicely done Jon!" Eyva called out as Robb moved to pick up his sword.

"I'll get you next time Snow." The heir to Winterfell remarked with a playful glint in his blue Tully eyes.

"Whatever you say." Jon replied with a smirk. The two of them re-sheathed their swords before sauntering over to the archery stations.

Bran, who had been watching the fight and not at all focusing on the bow in his hand or the target before him, seemed to suddenly remember what it was he was meant to be doing. Eyva saw the panic return to his pale face as it always did when the focus was on his training.

"Bran, how would you like it if your brothers helped you today?" She asked and the young boy nodded nervously. Robb and Jon, who had been chatting away, immediately joined them at Eyva's suggestion that they aid the young Stark. She watched as the lesson began, and was shortly joined by Rickon, who she hoisted up and sat firmly on a saddle that was draped over a beam to her right so that he had a better view. "And where have you been pup?" She asked the fair haired boy quietly.

"With Mother." He answered pointing up to the veranda, and Eyva looked up to see that Lady Stark had joined her husband.

"Ahh," Eyva said softly, just as an arrow darted through the air and hit the target. Eyva turned back to the boys quickly, ready to praise Bran for the brilliant shot, however her eyes, along with everyone else's, landed upon the very smug looking Arya Stark.

The whole training group watched and laughed with glee as Bran chased after his sister, and Eyva hoped that things never changed in Winterfell. However when her eyes caught sight of Theon Greyjoy talking to Lord Stark, whose gaze hardened suddenly, Eyva was reminded that good things rarely lasted. As the Starks would say; Winter was Coming.

 **Sorry if there are any mistakes, I don't use a beta. PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Eve x**


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